


Christmas With Crowley: Run Ins

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Christmas With Crowley [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addict Crowley (Supernatural), Blood Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Murder, Reader-Insert, Sad Crowley (Supernatural), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 13:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Crowley can’t resist the temptation of human blood, after what the Winchester’s did to him. But will someone he meets be able to help him get back to normal?





	Christmas With Crowley: Run Ins

** _14th December 2013_ **

Crowley whistled, traipsing around the little apartment he was in, the woman shaking in front of him.

“Wh-what do you want?”

“Your deal is up. We asked very nicely for your soul. But you damn witches-always resisting with your magic. It’s annoying!”

He twirled the knife in his hand, kneeling down in front of her and smiling.

“So sorry, love. You had the chance to come quietly. But now, I’m gonna make you scream!”

He plunged the knife into her leg, listening to her howling and crying, begging for him to stop. 

Unfortunately for her, Crowley was determined to get this soul.

“No can do. I need more souls. Someone’s trying to take over my hell. Well, I’m going to show all these demons that I’m the best bet they have”.

He dragged the knife down, watching as it tore apart her muscles and flesh, the sounds of her pleading, filling his ears.

The demon chuckled, loving the sound of fear in her screams.

After playing with her for a while, he got bored and slit her throat, watching as the blood oozed out of her.

He stared at the crimson liquid, licking his lips and trying his hardest to resist the temptation.

He just couldn’t help himself though, the need for the blood overtaking him.

Crowley leaned down, the syringe appearing in his hand, and filling it up with the woman’s blood, injecting it into himself.

His head tilted back, the emotions rolling in, the feeling of the hole he was unaware of, filling, as everything washed over him.

Looking down at the body, Crowley couldn’t help the tears that formed.

He was such a damn mess.

His hell was being taken from him. Demons were betraying him. And he had no one at all.

Crowley had helped the Winchesters and Castiel out of so many predicaments. 

Yet, they always seemed to try to get rid of him as soon as they were done with him.

It hurt.

Not that he’d admit it.

He sat down, tears flowing, as he let the addictive human emotions take over, letting his grief out.

After an hour of self-pity, he took one last load of blood, and walked out, the cold winter’s breeze blowing at his body, the blood making him actually feel the cold.

The snow hit his face and ears, his hands buried inside his pocket, trying to warm himself up, the few tears that escaped, freezing in the cold.

Crowley was just glad no one seemed to be around at this time of night, able to feel everything without being judged.

He passed a store, doubling back and realizing he really needed a drink.

Sighing, Crowley trudged into the store, going straight to the aisle filled with alcohol, picking up a bottle of whiskey and turning to go to the checkout.

The loud smashing of glass got the attention of the surrounding people.

“Shit! I’m so sorry”.

The man reached down, his hands hovering over the glass shards, realizing he obviously wouldn’t be picking them up.

Crowley watched the man fumble around on the floor, seeing the golden coloured liquid forming a large puddle, and some soaking into his pants.

“It’s ok. You’re pants-they’re getting wet”.

The younger man looked down, seeing his knees and shins with dark patches on them.

“Oh crap!”

He shot up, brushing his pants, despite it not having any effect, seeing as the alcohol had already soaked into them.

Crowley couldn’t help himself from chuckling, the man’s panicked, yet cute behaviour making him smile.

The man looked up at Crowley, his eyes wide, not in surprise, but in wonder.

“And what’s so funny?” he asked, his brows furrowing now and tilting his head to the side, his hand on his hip.

“What? No-nothing. Just-you looked cute, pet”.

The man began blushing, smiling lightly, before going back to a poker face.

“Pet?”

“Well-I don’t know your name. Not yet, anyway”.

“Y/n”.

He held his hand out, Crowley taking it and shaking.

“Crowley”.

Y/n nodded, standing and smiling at Crowley for a few seconds, before the demon cleared his throat.

“Sorry. You just-well-nothing. Anyway, sorry for the bottle”.

“Don’t be. I didn’t pay yet. So it’s their loss”.

Y/n giggled, nodding and playing with his hands.

“So-uh-you alone this Christmas?”

Crowley nodded, shrugging.

“Yep. And how did you know that?”

“Well-drinking alone. Christmas time. It’s fairly obvious”.

Crowley agreed, asking if y/n was in the same situation.

“Oh, no. Well, not really. My friend, Chelsea, is more of the Christmas person. She’s making me buy the stuff today. Apparently she needs fuzzy socks cos it’s freezing cold. And, of course, some damn red wine. She’s a sucker for the red”.

Crowley listened, hooked on every word coming from y/n.

There was something about this man.

He had no idea what, but he felt something. 

Something that he knew wasn’t due to the influence of the human blood coursing through his veins. 

This was something better.

“Well. Let me escort you to the sock section then”.

Y/n laughed, nodding and quickly grabbing a bottle of Riunite Lambrusco, putting it into the trolley, and walking alongside the handsome British man, moving slightly closer to him, until they were almost bumping shoulders.

“Ooh, wait. Go grab that thing”.

Crowley looked to where y/n was pointing, seeing the collection of wreaths.

“Which one?”

“That one”, y/n shouted over his shoulder, jutting his head in a general direction as he looked for some cute fuzzy socks.

Crowley grumbled under his breath, wondering how the hell he was here, looking for wreaths, with a human he had literally just met, instead of sorting out his rule over his kingdom.

He scanned through them, trying to find the best one, when a hand grabbed the one right in front of him, y/n’s head peeking out from his side.

“Told you-this one”.

Crowley rolled his eyes, walking to the checkout and waiting for y/n to pay, escorting him back to his car and loading the bags.

“Thank you. For the help. And the talk”.

Y/n shook his head.

“I didn’t help with anything”.

“Believe me, pet. You really did”.

They stood there awkwardly for a while, the snow coating y/n’s hair and shoulders, doing the same to Crowley.

The sudden interruption by Britney Spears made y/n jump.

“Shit. Umm-sorry”.

Y/n reached into his coat pocket, rummaging for the cell phone and pulling it out.

“Britney Spears? Really?”

“And? She’s awesome!” he sassed back.

Y/n answered the phone, mumbling _‘yeses’_ and _'uh-huh’s’,_ before hanging up.

“She really needs me back soon. So…”

Crowley nodded, holding out a card to y/n.

“My number. In case you wanna call me sometime?”

Y/n nodded, knowing he definitely would, and quickly hugged Crowley, his warm body fitting perfectly with his, before getting into his car and driving away, waving at the man who stood in the snow, his heart filled with happiness and joy.

Shit! 

He wasn’t meant to feel anything like this. 

The human blood had worn off.

Why was he still feeling these types of emotions?

He was so screwed.


End file.
